The Infinity Brigade
by He Who See's
Summary: Mr. Majestic. The Silver Surfer. Son Goku. Each one of these heroes are powerhouses within the confines of their own Universe whose feats and adventures are the very epitome of legendary. However, summoned by a mysterious stranger on a new journey spanning the Multiverse, can even their combined might topple a being whose rage can split entire worlds asunder on a whim?
1. Chapter 1

The Infinity Brigade

Chapter 1

_**SOMEWHERE BEYOND THE REACHES OF SPACE AND TIME, AS IT IS KNOWN TO MOST BEINGS…**_

He stirred. Groggily, he stirred. He felt like he had just gone toe to toe with the immensely powerful force field that always seemed to surround the most powerful of Daemonite ships whenever his people clashed with them. The funny thing was though, that he couldn't remember having his daylights punched. In fact…now that he thought about it, he didn't even remember there being a fight, or anything that would have had the chance of knocking him out, and not just because he was nigh invulnerable.

No.

The last thing he remembered was skimming along the skyline of a world tens of thousands of light-years from Khera in mid-day…the sun against his back and the primitive mud-brick shanty town of the planet's humanoid populace, it's largest and most gleaming of cities at this point in its history, right below him. They went about there daily hunter-gatherer, farming, and animal husbandry routines like ants from the height he was at. It was one of the few moments of genuine peace his position as a Kherum warlord could afford him in this eternal war with the Daemonites…right before his world, indeed, his entirely universe suddenly became black and he remembered beginning to wake up here. Wherever _here_ was.

Opening his eyes rapidly, he shot up into the sky of wherever he was, attempting to take whoever was responsible for his current predicament, assuming there was one, off guard and quickly analyze the situation from a higher vantage point. Soon after though, he deduced that such an action was a tad bit unnecessary. For in that small window of time, he had discovered, among other things, that there were none around him that would wish him harm. No one at all, for that matter.

He further learned that, wherever here was, up and down probably lacked an intrinsic value, considering that _here_ had a seventy-six point eight-nine-two chance of being another dimension lacking any real frame of reference for there to be a true sense of where up and down was. Another dimension where various gases emitted different shades of light and swirled about against a void that his telescopic vision told him went on for untold distances large enough to fit galaxies twelve times the size of the milky way in every direction without an end in sight.

It looked like some odd painting he once saw a refuge from one of the many worlds his people had liberated made from a type of natural woven tufted fabric in which the cut threads were evenly distributed, with a short dense pile, giving it a distinctive, smooth feel. A _Black Velvet _painting, if memory served him right, which he knew it did. A Black Velvet painting that one of their alien lot had made, by the looks of it, by taking a bunch of fluorescent neon colors and smearing them at random intervals.

"_Considering what went into the creation of this pocket dimension, that train of thought isn't that far off, Majestros of Universe-WS." _Another man's, another _entity's, _voice echoed inside his head, his gut reaction telling him to look around for the source even though he knew he probably wouldn't be able to, and withdraw his Kusar blade in a fighting stance. "_After all-"_

From his front, he saw a doorway into warp space, literally shaped like a doorway, open up, spilling forth cerulean-blue light as well as a tan-skinned man who remarkably resembled a Kherebim like himself.

"—I am the one who created it." The man finished in the same voice that was previously telepathically speaking to Majestros.

The man then snapped his fingers. For a while, Majestros kept his blade up, but dropped his guard and merely looked at the man with his arms crossed over his chest, saying, "Well?"

"Wait for it." Came the man's simple response, pointing to his own ear.

With his super-hearing, Majestros picked up what sounded like an object…no… _two_…coming from completely opposite directions…that were about to impact with sufficient force to destroy an early post-atomic age city…right above him!

Looking up, he saw both objects collide inside one of the swirling, multihued nebulae, and felt his cape flutter violently behind him as the ensuing shockwave enveloped him and the strange man in some of the stellar gas comprising it.

After a few seconds though, the cloud had dissipated enough that he could clearly see, without the use of his fantastic sight, what the two objects were given that their collision was only about ten feet away.

One, was another being that resembled a Kherebim, with sharp angular features wearing what he assumed to be an orange training garb befitting of some sort of warrior, with a symbol in an odd script that he did not recognize on the chest, a blue belt, bands around his wrists, blue boots, and raven black hair like his own, except so spikey and out of the norm that he imagined, with no small bit of humor, the eyes he would be able to poke out were he not careful where he moved.

The other…_looked_ like a Kherebum as well, but Majestros wasn't entirely sure. By that he meant, that while the bald figure was indeed like his kin in appearance, and could easily be mistaken for the genuine article at a distance, if one where to get close enough, they would easily have the same doubts that he had. After all, wouldn't you if you saw that this so called "_Kherebim_" looked stark nude and was covered in a silvery substance from head to toe? Also, despite the force of the impact, his feet were still firmly planted on what looked to be some kind of surfboard like object of the same color. A means of propulsion through space? A source of power perhaps?

In fact…now that he thought about it…despite the force of the collision being sufficient to reduce the typical non-Kherum to their base atomic components…both of these beings looked surprisingly well intact. In fact, if anything, it only seemed to give them a slight nudge to enter the waking world, if the fact that they were beginning to open their eyes was any indication.

"Huh? Where am I?" Asked the silver man, clutching his head as he shook it.

"Mmmm…bacon…" Said the spiky haired man, licking his lips.

The two finally managed to open there eyes, took in the sight of the other, and, rather than panic as Majestros was expecting, remained silent.

"Is…this some sort of peculiar dream?" Asked the Silver man, looking around.

"If it is, where's the bacon?" Asked the spiky haired man, also looking around.

"I'm afraid that this is no product of your subconscious, Silver Surfer." Said the tan-skinned man, garnering the attention of the two, who looked down and noticed him and the Kherum Warlord looking up.

"AWWW!" Bellowed the spiky haired man. "Does that mean there's no bacon?"

"Both of those things, Son Goku, sort of go hand in hand…in this situation anyways…so…yes."

"Darn it!" Said the Spiky haired man, fists clenching and teeth gritting. "Chi Chi was just giving me the best breakfast ever!"

Lowering his head back down to the tan-skinned man and raising an eyebrow at him, Majestros asked, "Would you care to inform me just what this situation is…whoever you are? Furthermore, why have you brought me and these two within this pocket dimension of yours?"

"I too, would covet an explanation." Said the Silver Surfer.

"What's a pocket dimension?" Asked Goku, scratching his head beneath his enormous hair-do.

Not missing a single beat, the tan-skinned man said, "My name is Alex Mercer. Who I am, what I am, is of no importance to you three…yet. What is though, is what I'm about to tell you, so pay attention, because the fate of several thousand worlds are soon going to become placed firmly within your hands. Nod if you understand."

After a moment's glance at the other two, Majestros, the Silver Surfer, and Goku looked at Mercer and did so. "Very well then…_Mercer_. We're listening." Spoke the Kherum Warlord.

"Good. Now: in another Universe, an extremely powerful extra-dimensional entity tried to invade an earth parallel to the three earths that lie inside each of your own Universes, whether you've discovered them or not." Alex said, eyes lingering on Majestros in particular as he paused. "An extra-dimensional entity known, in human tongues anyways, as Cthulu."

From the scattered remains of the nebulae, a trail of vapor came together, coalescing into an image of some great, horrible looking creature that looked like a freak of nature: a giant cephalopod that was flying through the air of a what looked like a mid to late industrial age civilization crawling with more Kherum lookalikes, demolishing all in its wake with dark and terrible powers.

"It looks like a giant, flying spaghetti monster." Said Goku, no doubt returning to whatever food related fantasy he was having before he had awoken. "Mmmm…spaghetti…"

"Indeed." Came Mercer's one word reply, before the image changed to that of what Majestros assumed to be this _earth_, slowly being covered by Cthulu's tentacles. "On this other earth, Cthulu managed to take over the world and bring it into his own extra-dimensional realm, the Nightmare City of R'lyeh, where…well…let's just say that the populace of that earth were doomed to eternal torment and damnation."

These last few words caused looks of horror and disgust to sprout on the faces of Majestros, the Surfer, and Goku. So did the images the vapors formed next. Before any of them could speak though, the man continued.

"Don't worry. That overblown giant squid got his come-up-ins in the end." Said Mercer, brushing aside any concerns they might throw at him with a wave of his hand. "Cthulu got cocky and thought he had what it took to begin invading other earths besides his to add to his ever expanding domain. The problem with that plan though…was that he tried to take over the earth protected by this guy—"

The image then changed to that of man, if it could be called that. He was tall, with red, rock like skin, white hair spiked up to great lengths than this _Son Goku's, _if such a thing could be believed, several arms with half of their length being covered in some sort of metal, and intense, brilliant white eyes, standing atop some sort of space station floating in orbit over what Majestros assumed to be this man's own earth.

"—Asura."

Pausing for what the three warriors could have sworn was dramatic effect, Mercer pressed forward.

"Long story short with this guy: he's a space demi-god from a pantheon that governed this earth: one of the eight Guardian Generals who led their legions into battle against a race of foul, impure beasts called the Gohma. However, he was betrayed by his kind, framed for the murder of their emperor, had his wife killed, had his daughter tormented to keep some machine running as some sort of living battery, and went on a rip roaring rampage of revenge against those most responsible, dying a couple of times on the way, but nevertheless, triumphing in the end."

The image then changed to Asura, being pushed down into a planet by the finger of a large, rotund entity almost as large as the world itself, struggling to push back.

"Also, when angered, his power soars exponentially. He's much like your Incredible Hulk, surfer: only already starting from a godlike state and with a much higher capacity for rage."

The three of them then saw Asura in the image manage to, in a maddened flurry of frenzied fists, destroy the planet sized being, much to their visible surprise.

"Like I said: exponentially." Stated Mercer, before the image returned to that of Asura standing atop his orbital mountain, only with him looking up as an obsidian rift in the fabric of space and time opened up, spilling forth Cthulu and thousands of beasts almost as foul as he was. "Anyways, Cthulu, genius that he was, tried to take him and his earth down."

The image then changed to Cthulu, heavily injured and leaking his foul life essence into the vacuum of space, which was filled with the lifeless remains of his army. They had all apparently died in various, gruesome fashions that reminded Majestros of battles he himself had partaken in, while their leader retreated back into the rift from whence he had come.

"It didn't end well for him. Even worse, as it turns out."

The three then saw Cthulu completely enter the rift, an angry Asura not far behind, but unable to prevent him from escaping.

"Though the demi-god was unable to stop him from retreating back into his realm, he was able to use his own energies to reopen the rift and continue giving chase to Cthulu."

The image then changed to that of Asura, standing victoriously over the corpse of Cthulu within the depths of his nightmare city.

"There, he managed to put an end to Cthulu, his realm, and save the people of the earth he had taken from their terrible fates."

The image then changed to that of Asura, standing atop the corpse of the dead Cthulu, surrounded by a crowd of human onlookers that were cheering his name and the death of the Elder One.

"Pardon me, but, I fail to see the logic behind you whisking us away here." Said Majestros.

"I concur. Even by your own admission, this '_Asura_', managed to defeat Cthulu by himself and end his evil for all eternity. What use, then, do you have of us three?" Asked the Surfer.

"Well…" trailed off Mercer, looking up and towards his right. "Afterwards, Asura sort of, kind of, blew up that earth he had freed in a fiery cacophony of genocidal fury—"

The image then showed Asura leaping high off into the air and impacting the planet with such raw power that it did exactly what Mercer said, and exploded much to the horror of the other three present.

"—and has since been repeating this little temper tantrum of his to other earths all across the Multiverse."

The three remained silent in their shock, which was clearly visible on each of their faces.

"But…why!?" Yelled out the Surfer.

"Yeah! You just said that the guy was a hero! Why would he suddenly decide to turn around and destroy that earth like that!?" Said Goku.

"Why indeed." Said Mercer, cryptically. "But, the reasoning behind this course of action, I'm afraid, is for me to know, and for you to find out for yourselves, or not, as the case may turn out."

"What is the meaning behind those words?" Asked Majestros, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"Why, the reason I've summoned all three of you here of course: to stop Asura before he manages to achieve his goal as a band of powerful, life-wiping, planet busting fighters: a brigade of sorts, you could say. I don't imagine the three of you, paragons of decency that you are, would need much motivation what with the billions, trillions, and possibly quadrillions of lives at stake and the very likely possibility that he will reach your own individual earths, perhaps even Khera, and…well…reenact the display you just saw him put on and reducing your worlds to nothing but—"

Mercer, using some form of telekinesis, coalesced the nebulaeic vapor into the palm of one of his hands and with a huff, dispersed it until it somehow disappeared into a particle trail that the naked human eye couldn't possibly hope to follow.

"—dust in the wind."

In his other hand, appeared some sort of high tech, red and black rectangular device with a screen on it and an infinity symbol a few centimeters below it.

"To aid you in your quest, much like the Greek Gods of yore often did to their bastard, wayward, demigod offspring, I am giving you a means with which to track Asura's movements across reality as well as to follow him."

Mercer tossed it towards Majestros at a speed roughly equaling that of orbital velocity. Casually plucking it out of the air, the Kherum Warlord gave it a quick inspection, putting a thumb over the infinity symbol of the device and realizing that it was a button of sorts to activate it. It was a moment later, looking back to the strange man facing him that a question formed in his mind that he soon voiced. "Your repository of knowledge seems to be quite vast, Mercer, so tell us: why don't you deal with this 'Asura' yourself if he presents such a gargantuan threat?"

To his surprise, the man merely smiled. "Goodbye Majestros, Norrin Radd, and Kakarot." He said.

Suddenly, the three assembled warriors felt the sudden urge to shield their eyes as a bright yellow light began to seemingly envelop the pocket dimension they were inside of as well as their mysterious host.

"Just do me a favor, and try not to die within the first three times you go up against him, would you? It'd be so tiresome to have to fetch three more of you…"

With that, their words became yellow completely, before coming as black as unconsciousness once more.

**A New Word From the Author:**

**Well folks, today, it finally happened. finally shipped in Majestic: Strange New Visitor and I FINALLY decided that, between than and Captain Atom: Armageddon, that I had enough of a grasp of Mr. Majestic, his character, and his background to replace him with Silver Age Superman for this story and rewrite this chapter from his perspective instead. Honestly, I think this will make things turn out for the better. **

**Silver-Age Superman, after all, though I love him, was so powerful he could just SNEEZE and solar-systems would fly away and Majestic is just _slightly _less powerful than Post-Crises supes, which is a much better fit for this story and would leave less people wondering why he just doesn't end it right then and there after being told the danger Asura poses while still also possessing the vast knowledge and capacity for it both Supes are depicted of having. Plus, Majestros, out of all three of the groups, would be less likely to pull his punches and, thusly, lend himself to more immediate action inside of the story as well as more drama between himself and his generally less brutal compatriots. **

**Plus, I can just imagine the God of War 3 soundtrack whenever Majestros does something awesome as well as Darth Vader's Imperial March a lot easier with him. **

**An Old Word from the Author**

**The above is a plot bunny I've had for the last few days or so. It was written within the course of a day, mostly between the hours of 9:47 AM Eastern Standard Time and 11:47 AM Eastern Standard Time. I'm unsure if I will be continuing this, given how wanton, capricious, and down right scatterbrain my drive for writing stories and sticking to them is (as the people who were waiting for me to update Morning Salvation and are STILL waiting for me to Update Sins of a Solar Empire: Domination will undoubtedly).**

**However, today was one of those few days where I just shut up, focused, felt the magic, and just started typing away at my computer man! The product of that is a first chapter over 2500 words long that, usually, would have taken me over a week to finish on my own and that would be an absolute PAIN to have to sit down and type if I had written it first in a notebook (which I usually do).**

**I wish I could bottle up the warm fuzzies of such moments to save for writing at later dates. Sure would have helped me in the past, and sure would help me in the future…**

**Anyways, enough of my rambling. Here's to hoping that someone somewhere out there digs the product of only a few hours of work from me…**


	2. Chapter 2

UNIVERSE-?

Out of all of the possible careers one could have in the world, the land of opportunity especially, many people would call Dan Wilson, age 28, idiotic, stupid, daft, and "one crazy-ass son of a bitch" for deciding to, with a college education and Masters in nursing, to instead take up the oh so prosperous job as a cab-driver in New York City. Admittedly though, this had less to do with the fact that he decided to be a cabbie…and more to do with the fact that he decided to take up this venerable profession…in New York City.

Because, quite frankly, New York City was a crazy place to live. Though you could easily make this argument for every major Metropolitan city, none were considered more suicidal to maintain a household in than the Big Apple for the simple fact that metahumans, mutants, Asgardian gods, mad scientists, genocidal robots, and a whole slew of other super weirdos flocked here more than the tourists did. That, and the city seemed to undergo some great catastrophe every other week. They were still trying to repair the damage that crackpot Magneto did with that flood of his in certain parts of the city.

With all that going on, why any sane, rational person would want to stay there, was lost to his friends and family.

However, familiarity with the NYC had bred comfort inside of Mr. Wilson, and even after all of the crap going down in the city, he had refused to leave. He was born here. He was raised here. He was living here, and by God, he was going to die here! Plus, being a cabbie wasn't so bad. At least no one would make constant jokes about him being a male nurse and he wasn't living with his parents anymore.

He was brought out of his musing however when suddenly, out of nowhere, he saw a flash of crimson light pop out in the street he was driving on. He didn't know that the flash of light was really a portal that was opened up in another dimension. He didn't know that the tall, dark red colored gentlemen with rough, almost rocklike skin, powerful looking metal arms, and spiked up, white hair could withstand the most powerful of gamma bombs going off in his face without even flinching. He didn't know why he had decided to pop up in the street right in front of his cab, which was going sixty in a twenty mile an hour zone. He didn't even know what this kook's intentions were. In that instant, he knew only one thing: to stop on the breaks as hard as he could.

With a mighty stomp, he did so, his tires burning rubber as they tried to halt the immense forward momentum of his cab. An effort that was proven to be vain moments later when, at a speed of about forty-five miles and hour, his car came to a sudden and abrupt crash, his face getting an up close and personal look at the air-bag built into his steering wheel.

After the typical rumbling and shaking crescendo commonly associated with car crashes at that speed, like a drunk after happy hour, Dan managed to slip himself out of the car door like a sardine in a can and laid on the ground for a few moments. Clutching his bruised and slightly bleeding head and moaning back and forth. He inhaled smoke and remembered blurry images of what tended to proceed such an event to a car in Grand Theft Auto. He began dragging himself from the wreckage as quickly as he could, which turned out to be rather sluggish.

Halfway from where he exited the car and onto the road, however, he stopped suddenly. He looked back and is eyes widened in shock and surprise. Standing as tall and resolutely as a wall erected from adamantium in front of his totaled cab was the bizarre looking man, completely unfazed and staring straight into his eyes with his own blood red orbs.

Though the man gave a slight huff, signifying his less than mild annoyance at being hit by the cab, to Dan, it was as though a storm had blown in. A storm so cold, that it managed to freeze him with fear. The man turned around and lifted the wreckage of the taxi with both hands, before giving a mighty heave and throwing it off into New York City's skyline with a single arm like a football. Next, his attention returned to Dan, his fist pointed at him as his eyes suddenly began to glow a bright white.

The cab driver noticed red energy forming before the fist as the man drew his arm back. His final thoughts before the man then thrust his limb forward, a fist shaped bolt of pure, unrequited rage reducing him and the building behind him into ash was, "_Why didn't I move to Kansas? Nothing this messed up EVER happens there…"_

* * *

UNIVERSE-?

In a single motion, synchronized to the point of seemingly being planned, Majestros, Goku and the Surfer awoke with starts at the screeches from what seemed like immense beasts. Looking up into the sky, all three of them found creatures that took the form of hybridized birds and reptiles that cawing cacophonously. They flapped their wings with a grace some would consider ill befitting of their primal nature that their descendants would one day inherit.

Goku was the only one who knew they were called _Pterodactyls_, but that had less to do with his knowledge of the history of his earth, and more to do with the fact that his earth still had living dinosaurs, many of which could be quite friendly and ferocious to human kind (as well as delicious).

It was then that the trio realized that each lay alone at the bottom of a rather deep crater extending some hundred or so feet below the earth and flew up back to more level ground. Standing amidst the untamed tropical forests of the late Cretaceous era, they shook their heads clean of whatever it was Mercer had done to them and allowed themselves a moment's respite by drinking in the sights.

"Where…where are we?" Asked the Surfer, massaging his argent temples.

"I dunno." Replied Goku, massaging his growling stomach. "But hopefully, somewhere I can grab a bite to eat."

He was about to take off above the dense canopy that would make the rainforests of the next sixty-five million years envious, but found one of his legs latched onto firmly, much more firmly than he had anticipated, by a single, strong hand. Looking back down, he found Majestros holding onto him, an expression on his face that spoke of sternness rather than strain in trying to restrain him. "Wait—errr—_Kakarot, _was it?"

The Saiyan replied, "Actually, I like to be called Goku."

"Well then, _Goku_, I don't think splitting up quite yet would be an advisable course of action."

"Really? How come?"

"Well…presently, we are on an unknown planet quite possibly in an uncharted portion of space containing an unknown degree of danger. Furthermore, countless worlds have been placed under our protection by a being quite possibly exceeding all of the power all three of us possess to stop-"

"-Actually, it isn't possible that that Mercer guy's stronger than us. I know for a fact that he _does_." Goku interrupted, his expression growing stern.

"So, you sensed it as well." Said the Surfer, his expression souring as the Saiyan's had.

The Kheran Warlord looked puzzled. "_Sensed? _What do you two mean by _sensed?_"

"Well, I cannot speak for Goku, but I can say that, as a wielder of the power cosmic, I am allotted a degree of what is referred to as _Cosmic Awareness_ which, among other things, permits me to gauge how powerful a being I encounter is. A sort of "_six sense_" if you will." Said the Surfer.

Majestros turned his head back to Goku, who said, "I was just trained to use _ki _to see how much power someone or something has."

Majestros quirked a brow at this, but decided to question this later. Right now though, he asked, "So then, I'm assuming that the power he wields is indeed, without even the shadow of a doubt, astronomical in comparison to our own?"

They nodded. "Do I even desire to know precisely how many exponents he exceeds us three by?" They shook their heads. "Well then, I suppose your appetite has abated then, Goku?"

"Not really, no."

"No? _No!?_ You and the Surfer just admitted that we were given a quest by an entity that outclasses us to stop yet ANOTHER entity that outclasses us!"

"Yep. Now, can you let go of me? Please?"

"But…why? How can you think of sustenance at a time like this!? How can the first thing that comes to mind NOT be figuring out some sort of plan of attack or _something _to ensure we do not meet our end since, I seem to recall Mercer specifically requesting that we live through our first few engagements with Asura?"

It was then that Goku's stomach started growling even louder than it had before. "Pretty please let me go?" Speaking past the incredulous looks being heaped upon him by Majestros and the Surfer, Goku said, "It won't take long at all. See?"

He placed the fore and middle finger of his right hand on his forehead and with a modicum of concentration, disappeared from Majestros's grasp.

"Why that little—" Before Majestros could finish, he felt a metallic hand placed upon his shoulder.

"Perhaps we needn't worry ourselves so much."

Casually taking his hand off his person, Majestros turned around and asked, "Why do you think that is?"

"Because, in the past, I have encountered beings that make myself and others look like insects in comparison. In fact, my power was granted by such a being."

"Your point?"

"My point is this: my _former _master was serious. Always serious. Never once do I recall him speaking of _anything _lightly unless he was certain no threat was posed to him or me, and often, his judgment was correct, most of the time and even then, he never once jested. In short: lying and toying did not become him because of his personality."

"So then, I am to gather that because this Mercer entity seemed a bit…_odd_, that he is intentionally exaggerating and playing with us?"

"Quite possibly, yes."

Majestros stroked his chin in thought. "I can't say I agree with you completely. I mean he did appear genuine and serious despite his…quirks. Plus, what motivation would he have for lying to us about the threat Asura poses?"

"Well, the common motivation for the being I draw most of my experience from in regards to _oddness_ would be a form of crude entertainment. Sport." Replied the Surfer, trying not to visibly shudder at the thought of a green humanoid with a purple shirt, underwear, and boots with pointed ears and a head shaped like a missile.

As the Surfer struggled to stuff back down any and all thoughts of the _Impossible Man _back inside the deepest recesses of his subconscious where they belonged, Majestros pondered for a bit more. He asked, "If that is the case, then wouldn't sending in three beings that, together, stood a just a chance of winning against a lone one that also had equal odds be more entertaining and _sporting _than sending in three that would crush him utterly?"

"To many: absolutely. To many as well though, sport may also be drawn from smiting a being who they feel has wronged them with measures that mortals such as ourselves often find…disproportionate…" The Surfer said, images of Mephisto and his sordid realm echoing off the walls of his mind.

"Hmmm…do you truly believe that?" Majestros asked, considering it.

"Partially, much like I suppose you do as well."

"Hmmm…well then, regardless as to whether or not we'll all outmatch Asura or he does us on the individual level, there is no question that he should be stopped, correct?"

The Surfer nodded his agreement.

"Besides, with the ability to gauge an opponent's "power level" that you and Goku seem to share, we'll know soon enough." Majestros scanned the skies for any sight of the Saiyan with his X-Ray and Telescopic vision used in tandem. "Now where is that famished fool?..."

Abruptly, Goku reappeared before the two astonished planet busters, a Pterodactyl with its neck bent at an unnatural angle and dead eyes in either hand.

"See! I told you it wouldn't take too long!" He beamed, before quickly karate chopping a nearby tree into firewood, arranging a dozen stones around the wood, creating a split, putting one of the dinosaurs on it, and starting a fire with a ki blast. Moving the Pterodactyl around like a rotisserie chicken, Goku sat down and held up the other one. "You guys want any? I've got an extra one!"

Majestros and the Silver Surfer looked at each other then back at their Saiyan compatriot.

"Sure, why not?" Majestros asked with a defeated sigh.

"Though I do not require food nor drink, I will oblige you."

* * *

UNIVERSE-?

From their headquarters, they descended. The Triskelion, the Morlock Tunnels, the Baxter Building, and his parent's house. Avenging angels that had survived Magneto's most recent attempt at _cleansing _the earth. Who, on any other Tuesday, would be pre-ordained to stop the havoc rocking Manhattan just in time for dinner and schnapps more often than not. But, today wasn't a typical Tuesday for them. No. Today would hold horrific events like those that lead up to the maser of magnetism's death. Today was a day where even more of their number would fall. Today was the day they tried to storm a mountain higher than fabled Olympus or Asgard. Today was the day all of the heroes remaining in the New York City area met Asura, the destructor.

Today would be the reddest day that they and the planet earth they called home would ever see…

* * *

UNIVERSE-?

Majestros and the Surfer were about a quarter of the way through the portions they had received, which consisted of one wing each of the spare Pterodactyl that Goku had caught. Goku had long since finished his own dinosaur and, still hungry, had asked nicely for the rest of the other one. Though they agreed mostly because they would be content merely with the wings, it should be noted that the fact that their jaws were slacked wide open enough to fit blimps through at the sight of him picking the bones clean of the first one more thoroughly than a school of piranhas had something to do with their willingness to part with the majority of their meal as well.

Gulping down a chewy, leathery morsel, Majestros asked, "So, now that you're stuffing yourself like a king, would you care to discuss stratagems with us Goku?"

The Saiyan, busy crunching down on both legs like large, scaly pretzel sticks, the final fleshy remains of the once majestic creature, muttered out, "Awah. Shuore." Though Majestros didn't catch that, even with his super hearing, he understood what he meant when Goku laid down on the ground after finishing, patted his belly while sighing contently, and said, "Sure. Go ahead."

"Well, since it is agreed that Asura poses a great threat, I suggest that when we encounter him that we give no quarter from the beginning and maintain this plan throughout."

"Huh?"

"He means, Goku, that when we fight Asura, that we should not _pull our _punches, as earthmen say. That when we fight him, that we should do so with everything we can muster and with the intent to kill."

"Hmmm…I dunno…I think we should try talking to him first."

Majestros's eyes narrowed on him and an uncomfortable silence descended upon the group. "Talk to him? I sincerely hope that what you said was some sort of human jest Goku. Otherwise, my doubts as to your intellectual capacity would be even more well founded than they already are."

Goky got into an Indian style sitting position and shot back the same look Majestros was sending his way. "Actually, I'm not joking. I'm serious."

Majestros sighed. "I was afraid of that." Massaging his temples, he asked, "I suppose we should also offer a starship and his own solar system as a peace offering as well, hmmm?"

"Well, not _that _far. All I'm saying is that we should get his side of the story first before we start attacking him."

"And why should we do that? What possible reason could he give us for the utter destruction of multiple earths and the genocide of what I assume to be billions?"

"Well…how do we even know he actually destroyed anything and this Mercer guy didn't make it all up? I mean, for all we know, his hands could be squeaky clean."

* * *

UNIVERSE-?

With force that could sink Nimitz-Class aircraft carriers, Asura's fists slammed into the face of a large giant that had boasted about his immense anger fueling his strength and making it grow in proportion to said anger at speeds exceeding the hyper sonic range. The sickly green ichor it coughed up splattered against his hands, mingling with the red ichor already staining them from the bodies lying all about them.

Apparently, he had never before fought a demi-god whose own rage could snuff his out like a candle and increased his power as well. He had never before faced something like Asura, nor ever would again…

* * *

UNIVERSE-?

"I concur. As I mentioned earlier, we need to take into account the possibility that Mercer was not being entirely forthcoming with us and that we know as little of him as we do Asura." Said the Surfer.

"What he said. I mean, hey! For all we know, we could just wind up killing a nice guy." Goku said.

* * *

UNIVERSE-?

Twirling around a hammer he had pried from the iron grip of a blond man who called himself a _god of thunder_, Asura hurled it towards a carpet missile heading towards him. The explosive detonated in mid-air and the hammer sailed onward, clipping the wing of the soaring fighter jet up above that had fired it in the first place with such force as to shear it off completely. The jet crashed onto the observation heights of the empire state building, killing two dozen and a half tourists and locals unfortunate enough to be there, half of them school children from Tottenville elementary school in Staten Island.

The pilot though, was fortunate enough to have hit the eject button moments before the crash and was now safely parachuting to the ground below. Unlike the rest of his four-man squadron, it seemed that he would get an opportunity at living to fight another day.

Unlike the rest of his four-man squadron, he was now a sitting duck for one with the godly range of vision and abilities available to Asura, who was about to make sure he joined them in the depths of Naraka.

As he reared back his fist though, he found his arm grabbed by another one of great power. The arm of the very same _thunder god _whose weapon he had recently used. He was limping, bruises and cuts all spectrums of black and blue covering his body, his left eye swollen shut. With haggard breath, he said, "So conceited are you, that you turn back to killing mortals for sport so casually after thinking you had bested a Thunderer?"

Asura huffed in response. "You are stronger than you look, but that means nothing to me, just like your supposed title. Now, let go before I decide to make your death more gruesome than it has to be."

The _Thunder God_ held out his right arm and the hammer Asura had thrown flew into his grasp, electricity crackling chaotically. "Thor says thee…nay!"

He held out his enchanted uru mallet toward the sky and a bolt of magic lightning was called down.

* * *

UNIVERSE-?

Majestros pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine, Goku. Diplomacy shall be the first thing we attempt when we see him. When—errr…-_If _ it fails though, me and the Surfer will be prepared to take him down with whatever force is required and I certainly hope you can teleport away from him in time."

"Wait…huh?" Goku asked, scratching his head.

"Well, since you seem to be the one most ardently supporting communication, it seems only fair that you be the one to engage in civil discourse with him."

Goku continued scratching his head.

"He means, since you suggested it, you're the one who shall try talking to Asura." The Surfer clarified.

"Oh! Well why didn't he say so?" The Saiyan asked, pointing a thumb at Majestros.

The Kherum Warlord sighed his frustration out and said, "You know…"

* * *

UNIVERSE-?

"…_I can't say my fears about our odds have been lessened any."_

Asura let Thor drop to the ground, his right arm missing yet still clutching to his hammer, lifeless.

* * *

_**A Word From the Author:**_

**Well, whatdya know!? I actually managed to update a chapter of something WITHOUT any photo finishes or late dates! I guess the stars were right these last two weeks or something like that. **

**To those of you wondering: yes. Next chapter will be the part where we FINALLY get to see the Goku, the Surfer, and Majestros taking on Asura, on a Marvel Earth no less, and we get an explanation as to how exactly one uses the device Mercer gave them, To those of you wondering which kind of Marvel Earth the earth Asura is on is based on, I think I dropped a few hints that any fan of that Marvel Earth or self respecting fan of Linkara and Atop the Fourth Wall will find to be a punch to the face at how obvious it is. **

**Questions? Comments? Concerns? Include them in your review or PM me.**

**Until next time, so long, farewell, and Auf Weidershen goodnight!**


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